


Hereditary Enemies

by Another_Freak1258



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adorable Aziraphale (Good Omens), Alternate Universe - Animals, Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Aziraphale Whump (Good Omens), Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has Two Penises (Good Omens), Cuddling, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Angst, Food chain, Grooming, Inaccurate Snake-Keeping, Innocent Aziraphale (Good Omens), Internal Conflict, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Misunderstandings, Rat Aziraphale (Good Omens), Smitten Crowley (Good Omens), Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Snake Owner Anathema Device, To Eat or Not to Eat?, fear of being eaten, playing it fast and loose with Crowley’s species, prey/predator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26415757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Another_Freak1258/pseuds/Another_Freak1258
Summary: Aziraphale is a rat bought as a meal for Crowley. Frustratingly, Anathema can’t get the stubborn snake to eat the damn thing!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 120
Kudos: 461





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Crowley is based off a red-bellied black snake, key phrase: based off.
> 
> Aziraphale is just a fat, fluffy rat.

As a snake enthusiast, Anathema frequents the pet store as much as—if not more—the grocery. In the beginning, she desperately tried to find more convenient solutions to feeding her voracious children. Frozen mice delivered to her doorstep were a godsend to some degree. However, Anathema soon came to realize there was no going back for some of her snakes, as they became spoiled on live food and would refuse anything that didn’t squeal or squirm. This left Anathema no choice but to become a regular customer at her local pet shop.

Anathema quickly left an impression on one of the newer employees, Newt. Enamored with her, the twitchy handler would begin to set aside certain stock of the rodent variety on her behalf. This was endlessly helpful for Anathema. It was awful to drive down to the pet shop only to discover they were fresh out of live prey for her hungry babies. 

Thankfully, Anathema could count on Newt to make sure she didn’t go home empty-handed. 

* * *

It’s Saturday, and Newt is hoping desperately that Anathema doesn’t stop by the shop. Not because he doesn’t want to see her, but because they’re out of large feeder rodents for the week, and that’s what she’s typically looking for. 

So when he sees her car pull up through the window, his palms grow damp and he begins rehearsing his lines. It’s not as if Anathema won’t understand it isn’t his fault, but he hates the thought of disappointing her. 

After greeting him, Anathema points at the chalk board above him with a vaguely flirty smile. “I’ll take the rest of your feeder rats.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Newt entertains an irresponsible idea that pops into his head. “Um, I.” He steels himself before looking at her apologetically. “I-I think we’ve only got maybe one, uh, Anathema. Sorry about that.” 

Anathema looks rightfully surprised. Optimistic, she takes out her phone to check the feeding schedule she has on there. She was planning on feeding Hastur, but he’s due to go blue very soon and will most likely refuse a meal. Crowley, on the other hand, is expecting something to eat. “One rat will be fine. Don’t worry about it. Although, do you have any live pinkies?” Another flirty smile and Newt is _gone_.

“Should. Of course. I will. . . Go now. Check, that is.” He stumbles his way into the back, looking around to see if anyone is around to see him jeopardize his job. 

First, Newt packs up Anathema’s regular order of pinkies. Then his eyes wander the stock room, searching for any rodents he hasn’t had a chance to move to the floor. By some miracle, there’s a cage of rats on the last shelf he investigates. They’re marked as pets, but this wouldn’t be the first time stock was recategorized. Newt is sure this has been done before. No harm in blurring the lines for a beautiful woman. 

The cage contains four rats, three of which are sleeping and one of which that is lazing in their empty food bowl. Newt is drawn to the isolated rat naturally, seeing it as an easier target. He gently pokes a bit of its protruding fat through the cage bars. It’s fur is blond and downy, with an attitude just as pleasant. Considering it doesn’t screech at him in protest. 

Newt takes the fluffy rat from the cage, feeling guilty as it sniffs his hand curiously. He handles a lot of rodents, and this one he can immediately tell would be a sweet, cuddly pet. “Sorry, buddy.” He packs it up as he would a feeder rat.

Returning to the front counter, Newt’s worries evaporate when Anathema’s face comes into view. 

* * *

Aziraphale is not very happy to be traveling at this time of day. He and the others had only just arrived at Paradise (Gabriel insisted upon this name) and now it seems he’s been relocated again! Aziraphale is thankful he had the bright idea to eat while the others succumbed to sleep, because this box is barren in terms of food. 

Several attempts at sleep are made, but it’s far too loud. Honestly! Aziraphale is not impressed. 

Despite his indignation, Aziraphale is prepared to be nothing but cooperative as soon as he’s returned to the cage. Or. . . _His_ cage? Truly, the rat is not sure what fate awaits him! But whatever it may be, hopefully it includes something to munch on. 

Gabriel was the most knowledgeable about their purpose. He said they were bred especially to be beautiful, that they could expect to be worshipped and doted on by their owners. But what exactly _is_ an owner? And why must they be separated? Gabriel and the others teased Aziraphale, yes, but it’s quite lonely in here all by himself. . .

Aziraphale feels much better about the whole ordeal when the constant jostling ceases and light floods into the traveling case. He is surprised to see a different human than before. Is this his owner? 

The strange woman makes no move to pet him, instead donning coarse gloves and scooping him up wordlessly. Aziraphale doesn’t like the gloves; the fabric scraps unpleasantly against his nose when he inspects them and it’s more difficult to locate her scent. 

Aziraphale is peeved with the glove-wearing human handling him and turns his attention to his surroundings. 

Unlike the room from before, this place is more cozy. It’s less bright, no windows to speak of, and much warmer in comparison. The perfect atmosphere for a nap! Aziraphale sees there are several cages along the walls, each of varying size, filled with foliage and. . . Hm, some kind of creature. Not-rats. Yes, each cage is full of foliage, water, and not-rats! 

The human moseys over to one of the biggest cages. It is so enormous Aziraphale is reluctant to even use the term ‘cage’ as a descriptor. Half of it is lush greenery and rocks, the rest of the space occupied by water. How delightful! Aziraphale has never had the opportunity to swim before. He’s heard good things about swimming and is excited to try. 

Sliding open a portion of the glass, the human unceremoniously dumps Aziraphale inside and onto some grass. The rat would normally be unhappy with this kind of treatment, but the magnitude of the cage forgives this woman’s impersonal behavior. Is this all for him?

Aziraphale sniffs around his pink feet. There are so many new smells, it’s hard to say if he’s alone. He cannot see any not-rats in the vicinity, excluding the ones across the way, but that surely cannot be the case! Rats are extremely social creatures, he can’t be expected to occupy this massive space by his lonesome. Right?

And most importantly, where’s the food?

Deciding to have a brief look around before he finds a spot to sleep, Aziraphale checks out the swimming pool before exploring the underbrush. The rocks look too tiring to scale so Aziraphale naturally takes the path of least resistance. 

Arriving at the back corner of the enclosure, Aziraphale is delighted to not only find a toasty lamp emanating heat, but a fellow animal! The creature is very long, so long it’s able to curl around itself. Reassured he isn’t alone, Aziraphale approaches them. 

But before speaking, Aziraphale examines the not-rat. Everything about them is so _exotic_. While their size is undeniably impressive, Aziraphale doesn’t know what to think about the lack of fur. No wonder they’re relaxing under this heat lamp! They must get cold easily. 

Their skin looks tough and smooth, made out of something Aziraphale has never seen before. It’s mostly black, but the not-rat’s belly is a bright red. They are _gorgeous_.

“Hello,” he greets with a polite chirp, cheerful. Although the not-rat’s deep yellow eyes are open, they do not respond. Aziraphale frowns before repeating himself, but again, nothing. Aziraphale grows concerned the not-rat may be in some sort of trouble. Are they sick? Or worse. . .

Aziraphale’s fears are snuffed when the fluffy rat notices they are indeed breathing. So why is he being ignored? Has Aziraphale done something wrong? 

Put out, Aziraphale finds a comfy spot to sleep that is nearby the unwelcoming creature but not impolitely so. He has to make a good impression! He doesn’t want to appear presumptuous. Aziraphale hopes dearly that they’ve simply had a misunderstanding that can be resolved after a good rest. No one but Gabriel would cuddle with Aziraphale, and Gabriel wasn’t the best at it, bless his heart. The chubby rat is hoping this not-rat will want to cuddle in the near future. If they do have issues with the cold, Aziraphale can help keep them warm!

* * *

Aziraphale wakes up some odd number of hours later. He isn’t well-rested by any means, but once he remembers everything, the rat is too excited to sleep! He wiggles and stretches awake, a tad peckish. Hopefully some food has been added to the enclosure so Aziraphale can really make himself at home. 

Noticing the not-rat is gone fills Aziraphale with relief. That means they are definitely awake and hopefully in a better mood for talking. Getting to his pink little feet, Aziraphale prepares to go looking for the creature, surprised when he find them a few breaths behind him. Aziraphale sits on his ample rump, smoothing over his bedhead reflexively.

“Ah, good evening, my dear!” Aziraphale chatters. Embarrassed to be caught so disheveled, the rat continues grooming as daintily as he can while speaking. “Forgive me, I’ve only just woke up.” 

The not-rat’s facial expression is hard to read at best and indistinguishable at worst. But their intense stare falters. Are they angry? Curious?

Azirphale wiggles thoughtfully. “I apologize if you found my behavior untoward earlier. . . I’ve had a dreadfully eventful day! Of course, that isn’t to say I am not grateful to be here. This place is magnificent. I was rather fearful I was the only one here, at first. You can imagine my relief when I found you!” 

At this, the not-rat frowns. Their neck relaxes, which had previously been S-shaped and looked uncomfortably tense. 

“Oh, where are my manners?” Aziraphale frets, attributing the not-rat’s silence to his own rude babbling. “Introducing myself seems to have slipped my mind. My name is Aziraphale. What may I call you?” 

When all Aziraphale receives is more silence, he tries to identify the problem. Perhaps he is supposed to already know who this creature is? “Ah, are _you_ my owner?”

“Ngk.” The odd sound is not what Aziraphale had been expecting, but he would never judge. “No. I’m Crowley.” _Ah, much better_! Aziraphale thinks, deciding that Crowley’s voice is nice to listen to, deep and charming. 

“How delightful. I’m very pleased to meet your acquaintance.” Strangely, Crowley isn’t similarly pleased. “Is. . . There a problem?”

Crowley’s tongue shoots out of his mouth and dances in the air. Aziraphale thinks it’s adorable and a good tension-breaker. “Don’t you know what I am?” 

“I’m afraid not,” Aziraphale answers sheepishly. “If you would be so kind as to enlighten me?” 

“I’m a _s_ nake, A _z_ iraphale,” Crowley hisses, emphasizing the s and z sounds. 

Aziraphale has never heard a hissing noise before and something about it is unnerving. He doesn’t like it, but. . . Is that mean? Should he say something to Crowley about it? No, they’ve only just met. Aziraphale hopes not to hear the sound again. It rattles his bones. 

“Snake,” the rat echos, looking into Crowley’s striking eyes. “Are all snakes as lovely as you?”

Unfortunately, Crowley hisses again. It’s clearly not a sound signifying joy. It feels aggressive. Aziraphale grooms his fluffy face to settle his nerves. He feels bad thinking about how he may have upset Crowley. 

“Lovely?” Crowley suddenly invades Aziraphale’s space, tongue flicking and wetting the blond fluff. “Mmm. _Rat_ ,” the snake rumbles in pleasure. Aziraphale is overjoyed Crowley thinks he smells good. He scents Crowley back, giggling when that long, curious tongue hits a ticklish spot. 

The tip of Crowley’s tail nudges against the rotund swell of Aziraphale’s tummy. “You are a fat, delicious thing,” the snake purrs. Crowley’s purr is adjacent to a hiss, but much nicer to hear. 

Aziraphale only giggles more. He was and always had been the fattest of his family, but none of them would ever acknowledge it. It’s nice to receive such a thoughtful compliment. His plumpness is something Aziraphale is especially proud of. “Thank you, my dear.”

Although thanks would have been the only appropriate response, Crowley seems unhappy with the rat’s reaction. He pushes, trying to disturb Aziraphale, “You’ve long outgrown your bones, rat. There is _s_ o much meat on you it’s _ss_ pilling onto the ground. Like a dumpling with a broken s- _s_ eam.” 

“Please, you’re much too kind,” Azirphale squirms playfully, not used to being subjected to such wonderful attention. He adores the feeling of Crowley’s scales on his fur, so smooth and strong! To truly reciprocate the snake’s affection, Aziraphale nibbles and licks him gently.

Crowley is having none of it. The end of his tail winds around Aziraphale and holds him firmly in place. “I am not _kind_! I am a snake! You are a rat! You are my din—“ Crowley pauses to take a breath and calm down. He considers Aziraphale’s genuine innocence for a moment. Crowley can see he’s found the avenue to take if he really wants to frighten the rat. Aziraphale doesn’t seem too concerned about being trapped in his coils, but Crowley flashing his fangs as he shouts angrily has gotten to him. Crowley has never felt guilty about harassing his prey. But seeing Aziraphale’s sweet face melt into this confused, scared expression. . . It hurts Crowley’s heart. “Do you _ss_ eriously have no clue why you’re here?” 

“No,” Aziraphale whimpers, clearly trying to act like he’s unbothered. He is a horrible actor. “I. . . I can see that my ignorance is greatly frustrating you. I am very sorry, my dear.”

Wanting to cast away any fear he’s inspired, Crowley uses the end of his tail to caress Aziraphale’s chubby cheeks. The snake feels embarrassed now, like he needs to explain his unwarranted outburst. Aziraphale obviously doesn’t know any better, that’s why he’s been so friendly. If he was privy to the food chain, Crowley is sure the rat would have ran away as desperately as all the others. “‘S nothing,” he dismisses. “Just not, um, u _s_ ually my re _s_ ponsibly to. . . Explain.” If Crowley had hands, he would be hitting himself on the head right about now. 

Aziraphale nibbles the tail stroking his fur to show he’s mellow again and forgiven Crowley before smiling at the snake obediently. “I see. Perhaps if you told me regardless?”

The prospect of doing so is much more unappealing than it was before. Crowley flounders, trying to think of something to say that will get them away from this damning question. 

“You alluded to knowing why I am here,” Aziraphale goes on, trying to be helpful. “Please, do tell. If I am made aware of my purpose, then you will be happy, yes? We will be able to have fun together! I do not wish to upset you further, my dear.”

Crowley shakes his head and plays with the blond floof on Aziraphale’s head. Under the heat lamp, the rat’s blond fur glows angelically. He needs to protect this precious angel at all costs. “Don’t worry about it, angel. I-I think I just got confused.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Aziraphale gets acquainted with his new home, Crowley tries to enjoy the limited time they have together before Anathema notices the rat is alive and well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU ❤️ I’ve never gotten such a high amount of engagement, this fandom doesn’t fuck around! I appreciate all of your comments and look forward to reading your guys’ reaction to this chapter! It’s a doozy! 
> 
> Oh, and the chapter number increased 😉

Aziraphale is relieved to have put their apparent misunderstanding behind them. He had felt the smallest, _strangest_ bit of worry seeing Crowley’s sharp teeth so close to his face. . . What function might those serve? Aziraphale knows they’d be quite the overkill for munching on some kibble! Mm, kibble.

“Let bygones be bygones, I always say.” Aziraphale snuffles along Crowley’s scales. He finds the snake’s scent unassuming and, admittedly, underwhelming. Gabriel, Uriel, Sandalphon—they were all so wonderfully fragrant! Crowley is not. Aziraphale is not surprised he hadn’t picked up on the snake’s scent when he first entered the enclosure. “Anyhow, where would the food be around here? I am famished.”

Crowley wonders what Aziraphale classifies as food. The rat looks like he’s overly familiar with it, so hopefully his definition is broad. “Might have t’wait for Anathema to return, the woman who brought you here. _S_ he take _s_ care of u _s_.” With any luck, there will already be something here that Aziraphale eats. Crowley isn’t sure how else he’ll be able to get what his new. . . Friend requires for sustenance. 

In the same vein, Crowley is worried about what _he_ requires. It’s no great feat refusing to give into the temptation of devouring Aziraphale; Crowley can go for months without a meal if need be. It has been a healthy while since he’s ate, though. And the thought of filling his stomach with a fat, scrumptious rat is hard to ignore, especially after having the expectation. It wasn’t long ago that Crowley was poised to strike Aziraphale, anticipating his last squeals of pain that the snake would squeeze out of him. Eyes bulging as his blood vessels popped under the pressure. His blond fur matted with blood and—

“Truly?” Aziraphale squeaks. “Traditionally, there’s a bowl at our disposal.” He climbs over Crowley with a soft grunt, searching for food. “Is that why you’re so slim?” 

Crowley shakes his head to reground himself, noticing how he was looming over Aziraphale. “Must be. Maybe you’ll find _ss_ omething s-suitable.”

The rat manages to locate a cluster of underdeveloped seeds and doesn’t hesitate tucking in. Crowley watches with great interest. It’s fascinating to see Aziraphale chew and nibble so peacefully. Crowley’s own method of consumption requires strategizing and a lot of exertion. It may be worth it in the end but there’s no denying it’s exhausting. 

“Would you care for some, my dear?” Aziraphale is reluctant to share, so he does not protest when the snake politely refuses. Knowing his manners, the rat licks his tiny hands once he’s finished. 

Crowley is sad to see the performance come to an end. He nudges Aziraphale affectionately, tongue tickling the rat’s pink ears. The delicious smell of him is only slightly distracting. “I dunno know much about rat _s_.” Crowley’s instincts are insisting he wrap Aziraphale in his coils and suffocate him, but the snake manages to perverse that desire into wanting to cuddle and hold the fluffy rodent. 

“That’s quite alright. I was entirely unaware of your species until today.” 

_You don’t say._ “Make _s-s-_ _s_ ense, you have quite the pedigree,” Crowley murmurs to himself. _Every_ animal of prey Anathema has fed him up to this point knew they were food and had been understandably terrified of Crowley. Well. _Almost_. There was one brown snake Anathema gave him when he was younger that mistakenly thought they were meant to mate. (And they did. But then Crowley ate her).

Anyway. That begs the question, why hadn’t Aziraphale learned the truth before he was brought here? Crowley is limited by his knowledge of the outside world, but he can still guess there must be some separation between domestic rodents and feeder rodents.Aziraphale is bloody beautiful, what with his blond floof and adorable face. Not to mention how well-fed he is! Crowley’s never seen a rat like him before. How could someone have decided he was better off dying in the belly of a beast instead of living a full, gluttonous life?

“Pedigree?”

Damn, Crowley hadn’t intended for Aziraphale to hear that! The snake is used to speaking his thoughts aloud. He’s going to have to adjust to having someone else around to possibly hear them. “Er, yeh. You’re bred to. . . Be pretty?” 

Aziraphale grins broadly and gives a pleased wiggle. The movement shows off his pudge and fluffs up his fur. He’s preening! Crowley’s heart melts. 

_Crowley is quite the charmer!_ Aziraphale muses. _Handsome, kind, and charming._ He wants to return the sentiment, but Crowley became rather upset earlier when Aziraphale complimented him. So the rat opts for grooming the snake to reciprocate. 

_He really is such an innocent creature._ Crowley is no optimist and dreads Aziraphale finding out the truth behind his being here. Even if Crowley can somehow persuade Anathema into letting Aziraphale stay, the rat probably won’t _want_ to. Crowley can see it now, the sweet rat squealing hysterically as he darts away, struggling to escape the snake’s reach. . . It will be heartbreaking. 

* * *

Crowley is the type to be active days and nights, while Aziraphale proves to be exclusively nocturnal. Thankfully, they are both lazy creatures and easily entertained by each other’s antics. 

Fearful of Anathema taking the rat away, Crowley hides him from view whenever the human pops by. This is becoming more difficult as the weeks pass, mostly because Aziraphale is vocal about how’d he like to speak with her about getting them some proper food. It’s also trying to convince the rat to stay hidden without revealing why. 

The trouble has been worth it, though. Crowley finds Aziraphale to be great company. Their friendship is one he’d expect out of another red-bellied black snake. Mutually beneficial. Equal. _Loving_. . . A relationship destined to lead to something more. 

Crowley looks thoughtfully at the sleeping Aziraphale nestled in his coils. He’s currently on the lookout for Anathema because the careless rat fell asleep out in the open. While their situation isn’t ideal by any means, the snake enjoys protecting Aziraphale. Crowley nuzzles his snoot against him.

A nasty voice is heard through the glass, “Crowley.” 

Already grimacing, Crowley looks straight ahead and finds Hastur’s ugly horned self staring back. “Hastur,” he sneers. 

Hastur is a desert viper, an irritating and hideous creature. He used to bother Crowley constantly back when he was a new addition to the family. Their enclosures face each other, so Crowley was the easiest one to communicate with. Crowley was saved when Anathema was gifted an emerald tree python, a quiet snake who went by the name Ligur. Hastur and Ligur demonstrated they liked each other to such an extent that Anathema had the wall between them replaced with a window. She’s a very considerate person like that, but Crowley doubts she will accept his fondness of Aziraphale so readily. 

“My eye _s_ ight may not be the be _s_ t at the moment, but I can sssmell it.”

Crowley hisses, growing defensive. What does it matter if Hastur and the others can smell Aziraphale? They cannot get to him. And even if they somehow did, they’d have to battle Crowley first, the most venomous of them all. These thoughts leave Crowley feeling foolishly cocky. 

“Poor little viper. . . Does it pain you to know I have such a fat, ta _s_ ty rat all to myself while you go hungry?” 

Hastur inflates his body, as if that’s suppose to be intimidating. He calls Crowley’s bluff, “ _S_ omehow I don’t believe you’re interested in how deliciousss it would be. We have heard you fawning over it.” 

Tightening his grip possessively around the slumbering rat, Crowley hisses again in warning, showing off his impressive fangs. “If you s-say a word, Ha _s_ tur, there will be hell to pay.” 

Laughing mockingly, Hastur reveals, “I’m waiting for the true _ss_ pectacle. Having your preciou _s_ rat ripped away from you and given to one of us-s.” 

Crowley’s blood runs even colder than usual at having his worst nightmare voiced. Although it is very unlikely Hastur can see the fluffy rat, Crowley uses his body to completely cover Aziraphale from view. It makes the snake feel just a little better to have Aziraphale hidden from the outside world. He doesn’t entertain a reply. 

“Have I _ss_ truck a nerve, loverboy?” Hastur continues to laugh. 

With Aziraphale in tow, Crowley moves them to the back of the enclosure, underneath the heat lamp. All of the frantic movement wakes up the pudgy rat, who rubs his sleepy face. “Crowley?”

Crowley tries not to let on to how scared and disturbed his conversation with Hastur has left him. He snuggles Aziraphale, basking in the fluffy warmth he effortlessly provides. “Sorry, angel,” he mutters, anticipating Hastur to go back on his word and ruin the house of cards Crowley has constructed. 

Despite the snake’s best efforts, Aziraphale notices that Crowley is upset. He takes the snake’s snoot in his little paws and licks around seam of Crowley’s mouth to comfort him. Crowley is touched by the rat’s gentle affection. 

“It’s okay, my dear. Everything is alright.”

_For now_ , Crowley thinks with resigned trepidation. 

* * *

The day arrives.

Aziraphale is swimming in wide circles above Crowley’s immersed form, giggling and squeaking at the silly snake. Crowley can stay underwater for much longer than him, it’s very impressive! Crowley’s hearing is muffled by the water and he’s rather distracted by the sight of Aziraphale’s wet behind, so he doesn’t immediately notice when Anathema enters the snake room. 

_Aziraphale_ does, however. He paddles out of the swimming pool excitedly, wanting to be played with. And fed! Is Anathema here to bring them some kibble? He bruxes at her, trying to garner attention. Crowley emerges from the water, horrified to see what’s happening. He captures Aziraphale in his coils and holds him close, not wanting him to be so close to the exit. 

The sound of a mouse alarms Anathema. She’s first worried that a fuzzie somehow escaped, but once her eyes find the blond rat in Crowley’s cage, it transforms into astonishment. That’s the same rat she gave him weeks ago, without question. What the hell? 

“Crowley, please, allow her to tend to me!” Aziraphale doesn’t understand why he’s being held back, finding no issue with Anathema approaching the enclosure. The rat believes Crowley is simply reluctant to share him. “You’re being ridiculous!” 

“No, you are!” Crowley struggles to hold Aziraphale without squeezing too tightly. “I won’t let her take you!”

This only fuels Aziraphale’s desire to reach Anathema, who is gawking at the sight of them. “Crowley, why haven’t you eaten your food?” Blessedly, Aziraphale is considerably young and hasn’t been around humans often enough to understand their language. Crowley is disturbed enough for both of them by her words. 

“You always eat your food.” Were the circumstances different, Crowley would be flattered by Anathema’s increasing concern. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Anathema is tremendously worried because, in all the years she’s owned Crowley, he’s never passed up a scheduled meal. Additionally, Crowley’s species is known to not do well in captivity, so she’s taking this as a sign that something is very wrong. “You’ve got it right there. Why aren’t you eating? Do you need some help?”

“No!” 

Cracking a half smile at her handsome baby’s hissing, Anathema retrieves the long forceps she employs for feeding. She slides the glass open and waits for an opportunity to grab Aziraphale. 

Enthused by the cage opening, Aziraphale gives one last mighty wiggle that sets him free. He trots right into Anathema’s forceps, losing his smile. “I do wish she’d use her bare hands,” he laments. 

“That’s quite frankly the least of our problems right now, you stupid rat!” Crowley hisses in frustration, regretting his hostility seconds later. Aziraphale doesn’t _understand_ , he doesn’t deserve to be yelled at and called names. But Crowley is so scared of losing him. 

The human adjusts her grip on Aziraphale so that he’s dangling upside down, now insulted and uncomfortable. He thrashes and whines as the forceps dig into his love handles. “Oh, this is unpleasant! Why, dear girl?” 

Anathema coos at Crowley, “Handsome boy, you shouldn’t play with your food! Why haven’t you eaten, hm? Are you feeling alright? Maybe my little man wants me to feed him. Hm, is that it? It’s okay, even handsome boys like you need help from their momma sometimes.” 

Crowley has the insane thought of biting Anathema as she brings Aziraphale closer to him. He quickly rejects the idea, ashamed he would even consider doing that to her. But his emotions are running high and he needs to protect his ~~love~~ best friend. “Aziraphale. . .”

“Crowley, what’s going on?” Finally, Aziraphale looks worried, but it brings Crowley no pleasure. “I don’t understand.”

Anathema knows that snakes are dumb and sometimes cannot find their food, even when it’s right in front of them. Crowley may have had the rat in his coils, but he’s clearly confused about something, because it should be long dead. She dangles the fat prey above Crowley’s head, trying to entice him. “Yummy yummy,” she promises with a smile. 

“What is happening?” Aziraphale demands with a tone Crowley’s never heard before, angry and shrill and scared. 

Crowley hadn’t expected for this to be so, as Anathema intended, _enticing_. It’s almost. . . Hypnotizing. . . Seeing a fat, juicy rat swaying in front of him. . . 

“C’mon, Crowley.” Anathema remains persistent, determined to convince Crowley to eat the rat. Coming to terms with the snake refusing to eat means she’ll have to accept that he may be sick. She’s in denial that he could be, he’s been doing so well in captivity. “Doesn’t he look delicious?”

Azirpahale is very distressed, kicking his little legs and arms. He’s given up holding back his tears and feels them wetting his fur. He doesn’t understand what the human is saying in that sugar-sweet tone of hers, but the puzzle pieces are slotting together. 

_ “You are a fat, delicious thing.” _

_ “Do you seriously have no clue why you’re here?” _

Crowley’s massive fangs. . . His sleek, powerful body. . . His obsession with Aziraphale’s scent. . . The lack of kibble. . . It all points to one horrifying conclusion. But Aziraphale can’t bear the thought, there’s simply no way! Crowley was so sweet to him. . . It can’t be. He refuses to believe it. Crowley deserves more credit. 

But he’s living in a fool’s reality. Aziraphale can’t deny the truth as he stares down at the snake, someone he loved and trusted, someone regarding him with focused, hungry eyes—

“No!” Aziraphale screams, writhing like a mad man as he cries pathetically. Every dormant prey instinct he should have felt when he first saw Crowley activates in the face of death. “No, please! Don’t eat me!” 

Anathema only sees a wiggling rat and her starving baby. “Yummy yummy,” she tempts. 

“ _Crowley_!” Aziraphale sobs. “Don’t eat me, please!” 

Crowley’s neck settles into the strike pose as he instinctively hones onto his target, ready to launch at any given moment. “Good boy!” Anathema encourages. 

Aziraphale forces himself to close his eyes. “No, no! I don’t want to die! Please, no. . .” He prepares for pain. 

Crowley strikes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😈 All I can say is don’t worry, this isn’t a death fic.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale’s borrowed time is up! Crowley must somehow prove to Anathema that Aziraphale ought to cohabitate with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tag — this is when a snake bites but does not hold on; they usually tag humans as a warning, they tag their intended meals if they are venomous and let the venom kill/paralyze their prey before actually wrapping around them and eating them.
> 
> [Check out the thread related to this fic on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/denny_trash1258/status/1309554648009846785?s=21)

Among similar tools, Anathema has used this pair of forceps for years to feed her pets. And yet, no matter how many times she bears witness to an attack, she always flinches. Snakes move so quickly, you see. It cannot be helped. She’s by no means afraid of her babies, especially Crowley. Crowley may be a dangerous species, but he’s also a complete cuddle bug. An outlier among his kind. He should by all means loathe her touch, not passively accept Anathema carrying him around or enjoying a cup of coffee with him draped across her shoulders. He’s always been a peculiar reptile and never done anything further than hiss at a minor annoyance. 

So when she sees Crowley settle into the strike position, Anathema is prepared for him to move faster than the blink of an eye and tag the rat. As a venomous species, Crowley injects his prey and waits for them to become paralyzed before devouring them. This is done so his prey cannot fight back and harm him. Rats especially are known for putting up quite the fight. 

Anathema used to feed Crowley like this when he was younger. She’d wait for him to inject his venom and then release the prey, watching out of morbid curiosity as the unlucky mammal became weaker, weaker, _weaker_. . . After stumbling around the terrarium for a minute or two, they’d fall over, twitching helplessly. Crowley would then slither over and wrap around them with an air of finality before starting to eat. 

It is a combination of all these things that dictate how the next five seconds play out. 

Instead of tagging the rat, Crowley misses. _Epically_ misses. With a good amount of force, his head bonks into the metal rod, very close to Anathema’s fingers. Too close for comfort.

As she had been prepared to release the rat, Anathema does so, simultaneously reacting to the sight of a venomous snake seemingly lunging at her. 

“ _Fuck_!” Anathema shrieks, dropping the forceps entirely as she scrambles to slide the glass opening shut. The forceps hit the ground with an unpleasant metallic noise while the rat tumbles back into the cage. For how disoriented he must be, the rat wastes no time booking it for the exit, but Anathema manages to close it in time. 

If she weren’t so distracted by the turn of events, Anathema’s heart would’ve broke at the pitiful sight of the rat banging its little pink paws against the glass in desperation. 

Now with an obstacle between them, Anathema’s alarm turns to anger. “Anthony J. Crowley!” she proclaims. “What the ever-loving fuck is wrong with you!” 

Although she deserves an explanation, a snake is a snake, so Anathema is denied an answer. She watches with crossed arms as Crowley approaches the hysterical rat, only serving to scared the poor thing even more. It dashes off towards the far back of the enclosure, moving faster than it probably ever has. 

Seeing Crowley give a sad little hiss at this, Anathema sighs. She wonders if he’s injured cognitively. Is his depth perception impaired? Why else would he aim for the forceps? He didn’t even aim for Anathema. Why the hell would he try to knock the forceps out of her hand. . . 

Crowley looks at the human apologetically. The last thing he wants is for her to think he was trying to bite her. He would never! But it is unlikely Anathema will accept he was aiming for the forceps, even though it’s the truth. He fears he may have lost her trust forever. 

Anathema gathers the forceps off the ground and stares at Crowley with concern. She wants to remove the rat from the enclosure but that will now be extremely challenging to pull off. She’s at a loss. “What am I supposed to do about this. . .” She turns around and notices the box of mice she brought with her with the intent to feed Dagon. Maybe there’s something wrong with that particular rat and that’s why Crowley hasn’t eaten it? 

Knowing it’s her responsibility to take care of Crowley even if he poses a threat, Anathema puts on gloves as a precaution and uses the forceps to pick up one of the unhappy mice. She takes note of Crowley’s position in the cage. 

Crowley is amazed by Anathema’s bravery as she slides the glass door open. He’s only distantly worried about Aziraphale attempting another escape because the rat in question is curled up somewhere in the back loudly sobbing. Crowley is in agony over that, be assured, but he’s also _hungry_. Hungry for Aziraphale, hungry for rat—but this will do! 

“No, no!” the mouse cries as they’re put within Crowley’s reach. “Please, no!” He feels no sympathy for them. This time, the snake tags his prey without missing a beat and Anathema releases it before closing the terrarium once more. 

Anathema and Crowley watch as the mouse tries to find somewhere to hide, not making more than five inches of progress before the venom renders their body immobile. Crowley cannot wait any longer and strikes the paralyzed mouse. 

While she’s very pleased to see Crowley eat the mouse, Anathema is even more confused. She was expecting Crowley to reject this rodent, as well. Is there a possibility that there really is something wrong with the blond rat in his enclosure? She’s never heard of something like that before. Anathema thinks she’ll have to get a professional’s opinion, but decides to see if Crowley keeps this meal down first.Beside herself, Anathema goes about what she had been planning to do in the snake room originally and considers her options.

* * *

It takes Crowley more than an hour to consume the nameless mouse, which is not unusual. Anathema leaves the snake room during this time, but she’s surely got Crowley on her mind. If he were her, he’d be just as confused. 

Thankfully, Aziraphale stays hidden while Crowley works on swallowing his prey. It would be. . . Awful, if Aziraphale saw something like that. Eating someone. But then again, he will need to get used to it, if he’s to stay. Can Crowley convince the fluffy rat to turn a blind eye? The idea of it is ambitious. 

Crowley feels much better, physically speaking, once he’s eaten the mouse. He’s almost hesitant to seek out Aziraphale. Is their friendship ruined? Nothing left to salvage? The sweet rodent’s cries may have decreased in intensity and volume, but Crowley can smell his fear. Aziraphale is terrified. And who could blame him? 

If Crowley doesn’t somehow convince Anathema to leave Aziraphale in his custody, the rat will undoubtedly be taken away and. . . God forbid, given to one of the others. There’s nothing wrong with Aziraphale and Anathema will have no problem presenting him to Ligur or Beelzebub or _Hastur_. They will hurt him, kill him. Eat him. . . They will make his death as humiliating and painful as possible. Crowley cannot let that happen! 

Crowley is going to try his hardest to convince Aziraphale of his pure intentions. Voice his confounded feelings! Do what he should have done from the beginning. Crowley loves Aziraphale, he’s sure of it.

However, if Aziraphale rejects Crowley, the rat will happily fall back into Anathema’s clutches. Well. More like, he will try to escape and completely fail. And once the human gets her hands on Aziraphale again, Crowley is sure the gorgeous rat will be out of his reach for good. He’ll be fed to another snake and tortured. Crowley hates his train of thought, but. . . That _cannot_ happen. Crowley will kill Aziraphale himself before it comes to that. At least then he can be assured that Aziraphale died as painlessly as possible. That isn’t to say Crowley is capable of killing his prey painlessly, but he won’t play with Aziraphale beforehand nor hurt him needlessly like the others would. 

Crowley desperately hopes it doesn’t come to that. 

* * *

Aziraphale is still trembling, hours later, when Crowley comes for him once more. He feels as though he cannot cry anymore, but hearing the soft sound of the snake’s scales on the rocks renews his terror. It’s time. Truly. Crowley will kill him now. Aziraphale forces himself to look.

Crowley’s head is less than a foot away, the perfect distance for striking. Aziraphale covers his face again and whimpers, scared out of his wits. 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley says, voice barely intelligible over the distraught rat’s weeping. He sounds sad and lost. 

Whining, the rat shakes his head violently. “P-Please, just get it over with!” Aziraphale begs, unable to take the anticipation. He needs it to be over. “Just do it!” 

Crowley thought he could not be any more depressed by the state of his dear friend, but he sorely misjudged. _I did this_ , Crowley thinks bitterly. _I did this to him_. “Angel—“

Aziraphale moans morosely at the pet name. “Stop!” he shouts through tears, betrayal swimming in his eyes. “You don’t have to p-pretend anymore. You. . . Stop pretending and just ea—t me!” Aziraphale is terrified of being eaten, of course, but he’s also heartbroken. Everything he experienced with Crowley was obviously a lie. Crowley’s been messing with him, playing with Aziraphale’s emotions for his own amusement. Lying about how he liked Aziraphale’s fur, smile, and company. 

Aziraphale thought Crowley was lovely from the beginning. Handsome, that is. And Crowley’s personality was attractive, too—but that was part of the ruse, wasn’t it? Crowley’s kindness was never just that, it was to lull Aziraphale into a false sense of security. It was all a lie. It makes Aziraphale sick to his stomach. 

Gabriel, Uriel, Michael, Sandalphon. . . Everyone Aziraphale’s ever known has mistreated him. It was never outward abuse, but it still hurt. They thought he was worth less than them, for whatever reason. Aziraphale felt they were wrong after coming here, but it would seem they were right all along. His family didn’t want him because he didn’t deserve their love. They were right to see him as an outcast. As inferior. 

After hearing that mouse scream for their life, Aziraphale understands now that he’s food. He was never meant to be worshiped and spoiled by a human. He’s meant to be suffocated and consumed. Gabriel was able to sense this somehow. After all, the male human from before. . . He took one look at all of them and chose _Aziraphale_. The human recognized that Aziraphale was better off being food for a superior animal and separated him from the others. Aziraphale has always been food, even when he didn’t know it. 

Crowley was the only one who treated him as an equal. As a friend. Crowley complimented him and cuddled with him _and it was all a facade_. Just another cruel joke played on the naive Aziraphale! Ha ha. If Gabriel could see him now. . .

Aziraphale had thought he was falling in love with Crowley. How pathetic of him. No one had ever shown him love, not his family, not any human. Aziraphale should not have trusted Crowley. It’s his own fault for being so stupid and soft. It’s obvious now that nobody could ever love him. He’ll never be anything more than food. 

“Wot? Pretend?” Crowley echoes, troubled by Aziraphale’s words. What does he mean by that?

Aware he’s aiding in his own humiliation, Aziraphale sneers at the snake. He’s never felt so undignified. “I’m not - not as foolish as you believe, foul fiend! I see now. . . It was all a lie, everything,” the rat sniffles, trying to show courage. “The g-game is up!”

“Aziraphale, I have no idea what you’re talking about. . .” Crowley cannot believe what he’s hearing. It’s natural Aziraphale’s mind has jumped to that conclusion, but it’s wrong! Everything was real. “I promise, I haven’t faked a thing.” 

Aziraphale rubs his eyes. “Please, stop this nonsense. . . I see the truth! Spare me these lies and k-kill me! You’ve won, there is no need to humiliate me further, you beast.” As Crowley searches for the right words, Aziraphale is overcome with a fresh wave of heartbreak. “My! God!” The rat clutches the fur over his heart in agony, which would normally be impeccably groomed, but is now covered in dirt. Aziraphale looks straight into Crowley’s eyes, raw and terribly wounded. He whispers, “Am I really so disgusting? Dear boy, my Crowley, was _none_ of it real?”

If Crowley was physically capable of crying, he would be bailing his eyes out. He shakes his head, choked up. “Angel, please listen to me. You must calm down.” Crowley cannot focus when Aziraphale is breaking down in front of him. “I can explain everything.” 

When Aziraphale refuses , Crowley sees no other option than to gather the rat into his coils. Aziraphale whines and squirms, but doesn’t fight beyond that. Maybe it’s because he thinks this is the end, maybe it’s because he’s too tired to fight anymore. Either way, Crowley wraps him up nice and snug and starts smoothing out his disheveled fur, all but cooing at the rat. 

It takes a great deal of time, but Aziraphale eventually relaxes enough to think semi-rationally. He’s still so very scared, being so close to Crowley when he knows the snake is his natural predator. And if Crowley’s strength and fangs weren’t enough of a reminder, Aziraphale can feel the bump of the mouse within Crowley pressing against him. 

Nevertheless, Crowley’s slow grooming and sweet words of reassurance do the trick. Aziraphale sniffles, peering up at the snake with timid eyes. He’s so stupid, buying into this. . . Really, there’s no way Crowley is being genuine! “This game is driving me mad, please, get on with it,” the blond rat begs. 

“There’ _s_ no game,” Crowley promises. He uses the tip of his tail to caress Aziraphale’s face. “I am not going to hurt you in any way, ju _s_ t let me explain.”

Aziraphale blinks at him for a few moments expectantly before looking down at where he’s captured. “Well, do go on,” he sasses. “Doesn’t seem as if I’m going anywhere.” 

Crowley smiles for about half a heartbeat before his serious expression returns. “ _S_ ’pose I better _ss_ tart at the beginning. . .” Crowley then recounts everything with honesty, from the moment they met to the present. He doesn’t go into detail about how much he’d love to eat Aziraphale or how much he thought about doing so, obviously, but other than that it’s the stark truth. More or less.

Afterwards, Aziraphale remains unsure. “How am I supposed to believe you if everything between us is based on a lie?” 

Unable to help himself, Crowley presses his snoot gently against the top of Aziraphale’s head and snuggles him. “It wa _s_. . . Barely a lie. An omi _s-s_ ion barely count _s_ a _s_ a lie. I had to avoid it because I knew thi _s_ would happen.”

“If you knew this was inevitable, why would you prolong it? We could have prepared for this.”

Crowley chuckles unenthusiastically. “Don’t try applying rea _s_ on and logic to me, you’ll give your _s_ elf a headache.” 

Aziraphale is quiet. Eventually, he nuzzles back against Crowley. “You see me as your friend? Truly?” 

_More than that._ He keeps it to himself, however. Crowley doesn’t think it’d be wise to go _there_ just yet. Another time. “ _Yess_. I want you to _s_ -stay here with me. You bring meaning to my life, angel. Dunno how I got on before you, hone _s_ tly.” 

Craning his neck so he can lick Crowley, Aziraphale makes a pleased sound. “It may take some time before I accept that, but. . . I want to believe so badly there is someone in this world who loves me. I-I trust you, Crowley.”

“Ngk.” Crowley soaks up Aziraphale’s affection with minimal protest. “Yea.”

* * *

Anathema returns a few hours later to check on Crowley.

Crowley made sure that him and Aziraphale were front and center of the enclosure, wanting the human to find them during a cuddle session. She would hopefully do what humans are apt at doing, drawing conclusions. There’s a pretty obvious answer to why Crowley would be cuddling with a rat instead of eating it, no matter how insane the idea of it is. 

A part of Aziraphale wants to run to the glass when Anathema approaches. His hindbrain is insisting that he is in danger, trapped in the coils of a ravenous snake, and should be making an effort to escape. It’s difficult not to run to her and demand rescue. 

Anathema stares at them, proclaiming, “My snake is broken.”

Crowley tries to look as cute as possible, nuzzling Aziraphale and acting extremely gentle. He’s making a point of not holding the rat in place, instead loosely embracing him. “Kiss me,” he suggests quietly, a tad demanding.

“Hm?” Aziraphale, who had been thoughtlessly enjoying the treatment, inquires.

“Kiss me,” Crowley repeats. “She needs to understand we’re friends.” 

Aziraphale climbs out from the center of Crowley’s coils, demonstrating that he is free to move around, and captures Crowley’s face between his little pink paws. He licks the snake sweetly. 

“My _rat_ is broken,” Anathema laughs, sounding somewhat hysterical. 

After kissing the snake for awhile, Aziraphale pulls away and asks for an update. “Is it working?” 

Crowley is reluctant to answer. Anathema is certainly _reacting_ to them, but she’s not necessarily supportive of their strange behavior. She seems. . . Disturbed. Horrified, maybe. Which is not good. “I can’t really tell,” he dismisses. 

Anathema pulls out her phone to take a video of the rat giving Crowley little kisses. She opens Snapchat and begins recording, zooming in on the sight comically. “Guys, I think my snake is broken.” 

As it is the second time hearing it, Crowley cannot stop himself from pouting. “S-Sure, _ss_ how an ounce of empathy ‘n’ _then_ you’re the bad guy. . .” 

“What is she saying?” Aziraphale asks, sounding very worried. 

Crowley pets the fluffy rat and sighs. “I think Anathema thinks it’s funny.” 

“Is that a good thing?” 

Crowley pulls away and goes to rest his head on the grass like he would if he were sleeping. Aziraphale wordlessly climbs on top of him and makes himself comfortable on Crowley’s scales. 

Anathema messes around on her phone until she abruptly leaves the snake room. Aziraphale and Crowley exchange a few confused words before she returns just as quickly, this time with a plastic cup full of—

“Kibble!” Aziraphale can feel himself salivating at the sight. He stays in place, however, because Crowley told him not to go within grabbing distance of Anathema. But for her to be bringing him kibble that must be a good sign, right? 

Crowley is unbelievably stressed as he watches Anathema put on her feeding gloves, sprinkle some kibble into her right hand, and proceed to slide open the glass entrance. The snake is nearly vibrating in place as he fights against himself to encase Aziraphale. 

“ _Crowley_ ,” Aziraphale groans, wanting to go over and eat the kibble. His body is practically demanding it after all this time without proper sustenance. “You wouldn’t feed food, would you? Let me eat, please.”

Of course, the snake is not convinced this isn’t a trap. He explains as much. But he still feels a shred of hope inspired by Anathema’s actions. Offering Aziraphale food, that’s. . . Well, you’d have to be completely heartless to separate them using such a conniving trick after witnessing them cuddle! Right? “Alright.”

Aziraphale shoots forward, diving for the kibble. As there are only a few pieces, the rat makes quick work of the food and looks up at Anathema for more. He’s still halfway in the cage, but it would be very difficult for Crowley to reach him in time if Anathema were to—

Heartless as she evidently is, Anathema grabs Aziraphale once he’s taken the bait and shuts the cage. 

“Bitch!” Crowley hisses, standing up in a defensive position. 

Aziraphale trembles in her hold, knowing what this means. Him and Crowley discussed this earlier. And, like always, he’s done the unthinkable and fallen right into this cruel human’s trap. . . He’s such an idiot! “Crowley,” Aziraphale whimpers, feeling like a failure. “I’m sorry!” 

“Give him back!” Crowley roars, eyes locked on Anathema’s perplexed brown ones. She has the audacity to look at him like he’s being the unreasonable one. 

Keeping an eye on Crowley, basically _mocking_ him, how can she be so terrible—Anathema goes to the other side of the room, in front of Hastur’s terrarium. She allows Hastur to get a good look at Aziraphale and gives Crowley the perfect view to watch. 

“Why! Bring him back, bring him back _now_!” Crowley continues to rage, knocking his tail against the cage glass. It’s no simple feat but he’s ~~in love~~ panicking. 

Aziraphale cries as Hastur hisses at him longingly. “You’re the deliciou _ss_ morsel that’ _s_ got Crowley s-so worked up? _S_ ’pose you do gotta lotta meat on ya.” He devours the rat with his eyes. 

“No, no,” Aziraphale sobs.

Lips pursed thoughtfully, Anathema walks back over to Crowley’s enclosure and holds Aziraphale up to the glass in a similar fashion. Aziraphale scratches at it, trying to convey his desire to go back inside. 

“This is. . .” Anathema murmurs to herself. “There’s no way.” She shakes her head, coming to some unknown conclusion. The human retrieves her infamous forceps and uses them to hold Aziraphale, ignorant to the rat’s despair.

Crowley, too, thought for a moment that she understood. “No! Anathema! Please, give him back!” the snake shouts in vain, watching with horror as she takes Aziraphale back over to Hastur’s cage. 

“Zzhut zee fuck up,” Beelzebub snarks from a distance. 

Paying them no mind, Crowley beats relentlessly against the glass. He will not give up! Aziraphale can’t die, much less to Hastur! “ _No_! Please, no. . .”

To say that Anathema is incredibly confused would be an understatement. If she were crazy, she would say that Crowley understands she’s about to feed this rat to Hastur; she would say that the rat and Crowley have some sort of bond between them. But again, that’d be crazy.

It _is_ crazy, but Anathema cannot deny the fact Crowley is clearly reacting to her little tests. First, she wanted to see if Crowley would be alright with the rat eating from her hand. He didn’t make a move to stop the rat, so clearly touching is not the problem. Next, Anathema removed the rat from the cage and observed how angry it made Crowley. And finally, Crowley grew more upset than ever when he saw Anathema presenting Hastur with the rat. But she’s reading too much into it, has spent too much time around her pets. . . She’s just anthropomorphizing them. Yeah. 

_But those sweet kisses_. . . Anathema looks down at the rat writhing in her grasp. “Fine! But don’t blame me when he bites you.” She’s talking to both of them when she says this. 

Crowley forces himself to slither away from the glass when Anathema reluctantly deposits Aziraphale inside, not wanting to frighten her and ruin their chances. She certainly _deserves_ a venomous bite for her behavior, but perhaps now they’re even. A scare for a scare. 

Crying, Aziraphale dashes into Crowley’s coils and collapses. He’s so tired and so stressed. Crowley gently strokes the blond rat’s fur as he vomits from all the excitement. 

Anathema continues to observe them, trying to decide where she should go from here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so here’s the deal. when I write these I’m doing research, right? Then I either incorporate that research or ignore it for plot purposes. The mating habits of snakes is fun on it’s own but rats got that whole heat/oestrus Thing and 🥵—well. I’ve decided there WILL be steamy snake/rat sex next chapter (final chapter). & I’ve also decided I want Azira to have a sweet lil rat cunny for Crowley to obliterate. :)
> 
> I’m thinking that snake/rat sex transcends the need for logistics and pronouns. Let’s all just let Azira have a pussy Mkay? ty for your cooperation


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although conflicted, Anathema comes to terms with the fact she has a pet rat now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed this story. It’s bittersweet to see it come to an end! Sorry for any mistakes, I’ll proofread later.
> 
> Time for the interspecies sex tho!!

Anathema keeps a close eye on Crowley and the rat for the next couple days as she does online research. To her infinite shock, Crowley remains uninjured and besotted as ever with the rodent, letting it play and cuddle with him. Anathema grows fond of the odd pair quickly. 

Nevertheless, she expects Crowley to eat it eventually. Probably at the most inopportune time, as well! 

In the midst of her researching, it occurs to her that the rat has not had proper food in awhile. It would have starved to death by now if Crowley’s terrarium wasn’t so over-the-top, Anathema thinks. She gave the rat some bait, sure, but nothing substantial. Anathema doesn’t bother investing in a pet bowl, grabbing an old Tupperware container from her garage and filling it with kibble. 

Anathema checks on each of her lovely babies before turning to her newly dubbed problem child, Crowley. She isn’t surprised to see him sleeping. The rat is awake and paddling around in the sizable pool, but he gets out of the water once he notices her. 

“I’d worry about Crowley knocking this over,” she comments as she opens the cage. “But you look like a little lard-ass, I bet you’ll have this gone before he wakes up.” Anathema prefers snakes above all other pets, but she can’t deny that the rat is adorably chunky. She sets the container inside and slides the opening shut shortly after. 

The wet rat waddles over to the food and goes to town. “Aww,” Anathema can’t help but sigh. 

She turns cynical after getting the cuteness out of her system. “Hm, maybe Crowley’s waiting until you’re a bit fatter. He can be prissy like that sometimes.” Anathema chuckles before directing her mind towards what she needs to get done for the day. 

Remembering the sorry state of Dagon, her lavender morph corn snake, Anathema leaves to collect the supplies she’ll need to help the struggling girl finish her shed. Anathema rarely needs to intervene when it comes to her babies shedding, but Dagon’s has gotten to the point where it’s necessary. 

Anathema sets up the large container she normally uses, putting a damp pillowcase inside before gently removing Dagon from her enclosure. She’s understandably grumpy. 

“I know, sweetheart, my poor itchy girl.” Anathema deposits her inside. “Momma’s going to make it better.” After making sure everything is in order, Anathema sets a timer on her phone for a half hour and leaves the snake room.

As he watches her go, Aziraphale feels guilty for his standoffish behavior towards Anathema. It was justified, but the human did bring him kibble! An entire bowl this time! Aziraphale wiggles happily to himself, cheeks chubby, as he thinks that this must mean his presence is being welcomed. 

Hearing a soft hiss, Aziraphale looks back at his dear friend. Crowley hasn’t awoken, however. The rat contemplates the likelihood of sleep-hissing before hearing the noise a second time. He turns towards the sound which seems to be emanating from the table outside their cage. 

Aziraphale suddenly recalls what Anathema had done before leaving. Mystery solved. He curiously watches the clear container, heart rate increasing. Aziraphale is aware he’s more than safe from the other snakes and has nothing to worry about, but his breath still catches when the pillowcase lifts. 

The snake is an eye-catching shade of purple and very small in comparison to Crowley. Aziraphale sets down the seed he was about to nibble and clears his throat.

“Hello,” he greets politely.

Their tongue flicks the air and Aziraphale wonders if they can smell him through the glass. “Are you Crowley’s rat, then?” Her voice is rough but distinctively feminine. 

“Um,” Aziraphale wavers, not sure how to answer. “My. . . My name is Aziraphale. Yours?”

“Dagon.” She looks at him with consideration, seeing an opportunity to cause strife. “Well. Not s-shockin’ to s-see he’s got another one.” 

Aziraphale’s nose twitches nervously at the offhanded comment. “Er, what do you mean by that?” 

Thinking carefully about what she should say, Dagon takes her time before answering. The anticipation of causing a rift between this rodent and Crowley provides a most appreciated distraction from the itchiness of her shed. “You must be wonderin’ why he hasn’t _eaten_ you yet,” she hisses teasingly. 

The discussion topic makes Aziraphale uncomfortable, but he supposes that if he were in Dagon’s scales, he would be just as confused as her. “Not quite,” he disagrees pointedly. “Crowley and I are friends, you see; very fond of each other. Henceforth, there is no possibility of. . . That.” 

Dagon hisses in amusement. “Oh? ‘N’ who told you that? Crowley?” She laughs again at his silence and continues. “What make _s_ you think he ain’t done thi _s_ before?” 

Aziraphale’s face scrunches up as he regards the implications of her words. “What - What, precisely, are you suggesting?” 

“Crowley’s real fond of this game. The rest of us get right down to busine _ss_ when it comes to devouring tasty rat _s_ like you,” she says. “But Crowley prefer _s_ the long haul, s-says it’s more sssatisfying. He like _s_ to keep his prey ‘round awhile, let ‘em think he’s their friend. _S_ wallow _s_ ‘em down once he’ _s_ gotten bored.”

Shaking his head in denial, Aziraphale exhales stiffly. “No. You - Have you no shame! We’ve only just met and here you are making an attempt to sow doubt into my mind. I will not be so gullible.” 

Aziraphale would be lying if he said there wasn’t a small part of him worried that Dagon is telling the truth. But she isn’t. Crowley loves him; Crowley would never eat him or lie as she’s suggesting. Aziraphale is disappointed that Dagon is clearly a foe rather than a potential friend. Crowley truly is the only kind soul Aziraphale’s ever met. 

“Then you don’t believe Anathema either?” Dagon is aware that Aziraphale does not understand human language because she heard him imply as much when Aziraphale was unsuccessfully fed to Crowley. 

Aziraphale anxiously rubs his paws together. “She - She’s only confused about our relationship. Concerned for Crowley. But!” The rat gestures to the almost empty container of kibble. “She brought me food today. I doubt she would go to such lengths if she expected me to, erm, perish soon.” 

“Ah, I understand. Crowley translate _s_ her word _s_ for ya?” 

“Yes. . .”

“Figured. Otherwi _s_ e you’d know I’m tellin’ the truth,” Dagon hums thoughtfully. “The reason s-she gave that to you is cuz _s_ he wants to keep all that deliciou _s_ meat on your bones. Make s-sure you’re still nice and plump for when Crowley decides to _strike_.” 

Aziraphale’s blood runs cold, despite how humid it is in the terrarium.Is there a possibility that. . . No! He shakes his head again and turns away. “No! I demand you stop speaking this way. You are a liar!” 

Dagon is impressed by the rat’s loyalty. Well. Maybe naivety would be a better word. “Ain’t no _ss_ kin off my nose if you don’t believe me.” 

Aziraphale is relieved when Anathema returns and puts an end to their conversation, fretting over Dagon as she’s wont to do with her pets. He looks disparagingly at the kibble, appetite lost. 

After everything, Aziraphale feels positively slimy for having any doubts about Crowley. Dagon is surely lying. But. . . What if she isn’t? Aziraphale doesn’t understand what Anathema is saying when she speaks. And she _did_ look pleased earlier as he ate. As far as the rat knows, the unintelligible sounds comingout of her mouth may have been, “Good little rat! Let’s get you nice and fat so that Crowley can have a hefty meal.” Aziraphale shivers. 

Crowley is still asleep. As bothered as his exchange with Dagon has left him, Aziraphale shuffles over to the snake for a cuddle. 

_I am a dreadful friend for not trusting him_ , Aziraphale thinks. _Crowley would never do something so abhorrent. He loves me._

* * *

Crowley is ecstatic when he discovers the kibble bowl. His optimism should have been contagious, but Aziraphale cannot shake what Dagon told him. As Crowley smiles and goes on about how Anathema is coming around to the idea of allowing the rat to stay, Aziraphale is distracted. 

Eyes trained on Crowley’s fangs, Aziraphale slumps submissively. It’s so slight that it goes unnoticed by the snake. 

They spoke about venom not too long ago. Aziraphale understands that Crowley’s fangs aren’t for chewing, but to inject venom into his prey. Prey like Aziraphale. Even a small nibble would be fatal, killing Aziraphale from the inside out. Rendering him unable to move or fight. 

Not that Aziraphale could beat Crowley if he did fight back. Crowley’s so large and strong. He could skip using his venom entirely and just squeeze Aziraphale to death. Does he think about it often? What’s stopping him? Is he waiting for Aziraphale to suggest a nice cuddle so that he can give the rat more than he bargained for? Is—

“Angel?”

Aziraphale jolts, his flabby arms wrapping around the swell of his belly. He realizes he’d been grinding his teeth stressfully and blinks up at Crowley. 

Crowley waits for him to say something. When the rat doesn’t give an explanation for his sudden unease, Crowley reaches out to caress Aziraphale. “What’s wrong?” 

Would it be better to go on as if nothing is wrong or to accuse Crowley outright? If Dagon was telling the truth, Aziraphale thinks it might be better to get it over with now while he’s feeling semi-brave. Aziraphale doesn’t hold back his tears as he considers his options.

Even if Crowley has tricked me, the rat thinks, I should handle this differently than before. Aziraphale remembers the things he said the last time he thought Crowley was going to eat him. He was angry and tried to hold onto a shred of his dignity. Well, it’s clear he has none of that. Aziraphale’s love for Crowley has only grown since then. If he’s to be consumed. . . So be it. Crowley deserves it. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whimpers. “I’m not confident that you’re being honest with me.” 

Crowley stiffens as if he is guilty, which frightens Aziraphale even more. “I. . . Go on. . .” The words cut the rat like a knife. 

No, Crowley is supposed to deny it! Why is he acting as if he’s hiding something! Any hope Aziraphale had evaporates and is replaced with dread. “I know that - that I was right all along. Dagon revealed to me your sick proclivities. I—Oh, disregard that, dear. I don’t want to be angry with you. You’ve given me much more than I deserve. . .”

“Dagon?” Crowley shakes his head adamantly. “Whatever she told you isn’t true! Please, I promise that you can trust me. I. . . I love you, Aziraphale.” 

Aziraphale disregards him. “Please, you needn’t keep up the act any longer. I know you’ve done this several times before.”

Crowley hisses angrily. He isn’t upset with Aziraphale, whose worries are valid, but with Dagon. She’s done him a disservice by stirring the pot like this. “I have _not_ ,” the snake insists. “I will never eat you. Listen to me, I—I’m in love with you.” 

In Aziraphale’s mind, Crowley’s declaration is trivialized. The rat considers himself unloveable. He thinks Crowley must be mistaking some kind of temporary infatuation for love. Still, _Aziraphale’s_ feelings are real. “Oh, I am terribly in love with you, Crowley,” he sobs, choking on self-pity. He takes a breath before continuing, wanting his words to come out steady. “And that is precisely why I’m not going to fight you in any way. I. . . If anything, knowing I will satiate you, become a part of you, helps me be less afraid.” 

Crowley is aghast. He feels like vomiting. Aziraphale is such a saccharine rat, gentle and kind, how does he have such disturbing thoughts? How could anyone think that way? Crowley can’t stand the idea that Aziraphale truly thinks so little of himself. The snake feels an intense urge to coil around his sweet love and sees no point in holding back. Crowley needn’t use more than a third of his body to wrap around Aziraphale. 

The rat may have a plump figure, but he looks utterly helpless when caught in Crowley’s coils. Because he is; Aziraphale is completely at his mercy a hundred percent of the time. Would it ever be possible for them to be on an even playing field? Crowley considers he may have to count himself lucky, for if Aziraphale weren’t scared of him, he’d surely be resentful instead.

“I will say this as many times as it takes for you to understand,” Crowley starts firmly. “Aziraphale, I care deeply for you. I have no intention of betraying your trust. ‘M not cruel or—blast it— _patient_ enough to draw out whatever you’re suggesting. Dagon takes pleasure in sowing discord; whatever you heard from her was a lie.”

Snake eyes have no business being so emotive! Aziraphale can easily put up with his own despair, but seeing Crowley in such a state is too much to handle. He reaches out to trail his pink fingers against Crowley’s smooth scales, sniffling. It’s harder to accept Crowley’s words than it was last time. There’s a voice in the rat’s head, who sounds suspiciously like Gabriel, that insists there is no way Crowley is being truthful. But. . . It _would_ be rather rude to believe Dagon’s words over Crowley’s, now that he’s thinking a bit more logically. Aziraphale frowns, remembering the serpent’s earlier confession. 

_ I—I’m in love with you. _

Could that be. . . True? Seeing Crowley’s golden eyes teeming with desperate affection sure adds validity to the whole thing. But if that’s the case. . . 

Aziraphale thinks of how unfair it is to Crowley for him to need constant reassurance and coddling. And. . . Crowley loves him regardlessly of that? Aziraphale feels his heart fill with love and adoration. No true predator would put up with all his sniveling! Crowley _must_ love him, what a marvelous realization! 

“Oh!” Aziraphale exclaims snottily. He wipes his face before continuing to caress Crowley’s snoot. He doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. “Then you really—dear me!”

Crowley can’t hold Aziraphale’s mistrust against him. They’re hereditary enemies; there’s no reason for the rat to trust him. What an odd pair they make. “‘S alright,” Crowley assures. The trouble Aziraphale makes for him is more than paid for by his warmth and kisses. _I only wish you weren’t taught to think of yourself as a burden_ , Crowley thinks to himself. They’ll have to work on the rat’s self-esteem in the future. 

“Forgive me for dismissing your. . .” Aziraphale clears his throat, bashful. “Your feelings.” He avoids eye contact, but it’s endearing rather than rude. 

“‘S alright,” Crowley repeats, feeling shy himself. “Seems like we feel the same way, then.” 

Aziraphale can’t stop himself from smiling. “Indeed.” He looks back at Crowley coyly. “My love.” 

“Ngk.” 

* * *

A few days later, Anathema admits defeat. According to Crowley, the rat is here to stay. 

At the pet shop, she grabs a shopping basket and heads for the rodent aisle. She intends to only grab a few essential items, but it gets out of hand quickly. 

Newt pops into the aisle under the pretense of restocking. He gestures to the non-snake related items in her basket. “It’s still alive?” he asks curiously. Anathema has kept him updated on the situation because of it’s bizarreness. 

“Yeah,” Anathema sighs with a small laugh. “I’ve been putting this off because I know the second I invest in the thing, Crowley _will_ eat it.” 

In agreement, Newt comments, “Hold onto the receipt.” 

One of the many pet rat accessories catches Anathema’s eye and she takes it off the display hook. It’s advertised as a hammock. “This is adorable!” She shows Newt, as if he doesn’t work there. “It looks like a crêpe!” 

Newt’s seen pictures of how extravagant Anathema’s snake room is. He isn’t surprised to see her going overboard for one little rodent. “ _Definitely_ a must.” 

Back at home, Anathema sets everything up without issue, then sits back to watch Crowley and the rat discover each new addition to the enclosure. While the rat’s happiness is very satisfying, it is more important to Anathema to see how Crowley reacts. He looks unsure of the hammock and Anathema finds that extremely cute. 

Aziraphale is over the moon with the changes! He wastes no time finding a way to get onto the brightly colored hammock, giggling as it swings minutely. “How lovely!”

Crowley flicks his tongue around Aziraphale and the hammock. It looks strange, but if Aziraphale is happy than Crowley is happy. 

Before leaving, Anathema watches her snake nuzzle the rat and wonders if she’s in a Disney movie.

Hopping out of the hammock, Aziraphale heads for the mineral rock the human installed for him next to a large water bottle. He licks it, squealing with contentment. “Oh, this is scrumptious,” he declares. 

Crowley is just about to find a nice spot to curl up for a nap when a mindless flick of his tongue catches a sugary odor lingering in the air. He scents Aziraphale curiously as the rat ignores him in favor of the mineral rock. Aziraphale, like always, smells yummy, but there’s something heady and sweet sticking to his skin. . .

When Crowley’s hemipenes throb within their sheath, he’s able to identify the smell. 

“Angel?” the snake murmurs, perplexed. 

Aziraphale is too preoccupied with his snack to reply. Crowley, feeling particularly mischievous, presses his head low to the ground so that he can slip underneath Aziraphale and push him upwards. 

Without much force, Crowley does just that, and Aziraphale briefly experiences what it is like to be a pancake. He chitters disapprovingly at the interruption but is smiling all the while. 

Crowley flicks his tongue against Aziraphale’s shapely tummy. “How’re you feeling, Aziraphale?” he hisses knowingly. 

Aziraphale doesn’t immediately catch onto what Crowley’s discovered. He wiggles his ears reflectively at the sultry tone and responds, “Pleased beyond all measure, my love.” 

“Hm.” Crowley uses a combination of his own strength and Aziraphale’s compliance to manipulate the rat onto his back. This gives him a _gorgeous_ view of Aziraphale’s flushed vulva. _Bingo_. He hisses in approval. 

The horny rat in question is rather confused by the turn of events. Why has Crowley put him on his back? Not that it’s uncomfortable, just. . . Random! Aziraphale is unaware of the state of his genitals because his mountainous belly blocks his view. Still, being scrutinized so intensely by Crowley is making him feel hot and needy. 

Aziraphale kicks his legs playfully, unintentionally pressing his sticky folds together in a lewd parody of a wink. Crowley shivers, pressing his snoot against Aziraphale’s pudgy midsection. He scents again, tongue brushing against the engorged flesh of the rat’s vulva.

“Oh!” Aziraphale cries out, feeling a burst of pleasure. “C-Crowley, my. . .” 

“Are you in heat, my little dove?” Crowley asks soothingly, voice thick with arousal. 

Now hypersensitive, Aziraphale nods. He’d been expecting this for a good long while, but it seems as if the stress of everything has messed up his cycle. Although sudden, he’s glad his heat is here, especially since Crowley is acting like he’s going to be helping him through it. “Yes, Crowley,” he whines. 

Crowley licks the rat again, earning another desperate moan. “I get it,” he understands. “You can’t s-see your sssweet cunny past that gorgeou _s-s-s_ tomach of yours, can you, darling? Well, let me say, your poor cunt is all puffy and red. Look _s_ like it wants some attention.” 

Aziraphale squeals, reaching out to hold onto Crowley’s head. “Yes, yes, please. . .” The rat can feel himself becoming more and more excited under his love’s ministrations. He’s never felt like this before—the last time Aziraphale was in heat it was _awful_. Gabriel kept persistently trying to mount him. Aziraphale had to sleep with one eye open to assure himself that Gabriel didn’t succeed. This made the experience tiring, lonely, and unfulfilling. 

“You _s_ mell. . . Wonderful,” Crowley pants into Aziraphale’s fat. “Better than any ssserpent pheromone.” 

Even in the thrones of passion, Aziraphale registers the compliment and grinds his teeth together in victory. He enjoys the sensation of Crowley’s tongue for awhile longer before getting to his unsteady feet. Aziraphale’s cunt clenches, desperate to be filled. He wonders if Crowley will be able to, ahem, _assist_ with that.

Crowley roves his greedy eyes over his lover. He cannot believe this is all for him to enjoy. “You’re perfect. Stunning.” From the rat’s curves to his downy fur, there’s nothing Crowley sees that he doesn’t like. 

Aziraphale would usually disagree, but he’s too busy admiring Crowley in return. The rat arches his back wantonly, whining at the sight of his powerful mate. “I ache so badly,” he whimpers. 

Hissing, the snake rubs his head along the length of Aziraphale’s body, giving his own display of interest. “Yeah? Your tight cunt want _s_ to be filled? Tell me, love, is it fluttering around it _s_ elf a _s_ you imagine a cock sliding into you? Pressing into your _ss_ oft walls?” 

“ _Crowley_!” Aziraphale chastises. 

Crowley’s hemipenes are out and ready for some action, but he loves seeing Aziraphale so desperate for pleasure. He pulls away to look down at the rat in an intimidating, although sexy, fashion. “Can you even reach your cunt?” 

Aziraphale lays back down and stretches forward, fingers instantly soddened as they make contact with his leaking flesh. “Oh,” the rat moans. “Y-Yes. . .”

“Play with your hole,” Crowley instructs, rapt. “Go on, ssstuff your itty-bitty fingers in there.” 

_I shouldn’t disobey_ , Aziraphale reasons. He hesitantly dips a finger inside himself, not overly impressed by the sensation. He wants to feel stretched and owned, not like he’s having some sort of physical examine. And, of course, his claws don’t feel the best down there. 

“C-Crowley!” Aziraphale sobs, yanking his paw away and standing. He turns around and arches his back seductively, hoping that Crowley is planning on offering him relief soon. “I can’t satisfy myself!” 

Crowley does a little snake dance, undulating in the air. “Ye _ss_ , you need me. I’ll fill you, darling, don’t worry.” Gently taking hold of his mate, Crowley spends some time looking for a position optimal for penetration. He makes sure to brush his smooth scales over Aziraphale’s dripping sex whenever possible. 

“I’ll go mad if you don’t stick something in me this instant!” Aziraphale abruptly shouts, lust shrouding his judgement. 

“Impatient,” Crowley teases. As much as he’d like to get down to business, the snake wants to make sure Aziraphale is comfortable with what’s about to happen. Using a rock for leverage, he waves his hemipenes in Aziraphale’s face. 

Gasping, Aziraphale reaches out to stroke them. Crowley moans in response to the stimulation, tender as it may be. “There’s two!” He sounds fascinated and nervous. 

Crowley’s hemipenes coat Aziraphale’s little pink fingers in salty pre-cum, the one being held giving a mighty twitch. “Don’t s-sound so worried, angel. I’ll only be u _s_ ing one.” 

The size of them is not impressive when you’re using Crowley’s mass as a reference, but to the rat they are large. The thought of his lover being so generously endowed is hot, but Aziraphale would be lying if he said he wasn’t apprehensive. Still, Aziraphale spreads his legs nice and wide, heart beating rapidly. 

“Gorgeousss thing,” Crowley compliments before making his move. Normally he wouldn’t have to worry about squeezing too hard or rolling around, but under these circumstances Crowley wants to make sure he’s as gentle as Aziraphale requires. He alines one of his hemipenes with the rat’s glistening vulva and thrusts forward. 

Aziraphale squeals as Crowley’s hemipenis breaches him. It hardly hurts—the haze of heat numbing most of the pain. If anything, all Aziraphale can feel is relief. It feels amazing to have that itch inside of him scratched. 

“Fuck,” Crowley moans. The feeling of Aziraphale’s tight cunt around his cock is euphoric. The rat is so _warm_ and _wet_ on the inside. “You feel so good.”

“So—so do you,” Aziraphale whimpers, writhing on Crowley’s cock. “Please, _move_.”

Not wanting to disappoint, Crowley begins undulating back and forth, paying close attention to Aziraphale while also enjoying himself. While unexpected, the sensation of the rat’s matted fur brushing against his scales is erotic and pleasurable. 

Crowley hisses at Aziraphale. “Look at you, split open on a serpent’s cock. . . ‘N’ you love it.” 

Aziraphale mewls in agreement, higher motor functions lost. His entire world has been reduced to Crowley’s hemipenis ramming into his ruffly walls, the head of his cock kissing Aziraphale’s cervix. 

“Are you going to come for me, angel? I want you to—“ Crowley gyrates with as much force as he’s capable of, dopily observing Aziraphale fall apart on his hemipenis. “Let your _s_ elf have it, my love.” 

“Ah!” Aziraphale shouts as he cums, cunt constricting around his lover as immense pleasure cascades over him. “Crowley!”

Crowley reaches his own peak at the vulgar spectacle, hissing as he cums deep into the rat’s drenched cunt. Even after he’s done thrusting he doesn’t pull out, his hindbrain insisting he stay inside long enough to assure no other males will be able to invade this cunt. 

Aziraphale is still catching his breath. Crowley caresses his face with the end of his tail, despite the moment being rather taxing. “Alright?” the snake inquires. 

“Never better, my dear boy,” Aziraphale giggles. 

They gaze into each other’s eyes for awhile until Aziraphale demands to be freed. Crowley waits with anticipation as the rat notices something off, eventually inspecting his sensitive hole. “What in heavens is this?”

Crowley feels a tad guilty. “Ah, well. ‘ _S_ a _s_ nake thing. To make sure nobody else can have you.” 

Aziraphale presses curiously against the firm seal covering his vagina. “Right. How considerate of you.” He laughs at the ridiculousness of it, beaming at Crowley. 

After the rat has had a deep drink from his water bottle, the two head for the heat lamp in the back of the enclosure. As he has done a hundred times before, Crowley wraps around Aziraphale lovingly, feeling like the luckiest snake in the world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so ends the tale of crowley and ratziraphale!! 😭 thank you for reading! ❤️
> 
> I hope I have convinced some of you that Aziraphale’s animal counterpart is a rat. Fat, lazy, adorable, cuddly, loves yummy food... Plus it makes his relationship with Crowley sweeter!

**Author's Note:**

> [Follow me on Twitter!](https://mobile.twitter.com/Denny_Trash1258)
> 
> [Check out the thread related to this fic on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/denny_trash1258/status/1309554648009846785?s=21)


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